


Let the Rumors Fly

by VeraDiem8



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Snowed In, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraDiem8/pseuds/VeraDiem8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys are stuck in a hotel during a relentless blizzard. The unexpected down time is giving Harry all kinds of reasons to let his mind wander... but his thoughts always come back to one person. When Louis catches Harry in a "compromising position" one night, is it ridiculous for Harry to hope that Louis thinks about him too?</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>Snow storm + horny Harry + adorable Louis = <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snowed In

It’s been snowing for three days straight; blizzard warnings scroll across the bottom of the television every few minutes. The lads have gathered in Liam’s suite for the evening but there’s hardly anything to do. Harry sits listlessly at the window with his forehead pressed against the cool glass. The twenty-fifth floor really gets you a great view – they’re so high up that the plow trucks look like little boats leaving black wakes of pavement.

Harry sighs heavily. Their flight probably won’t leave tomorrow, either.

“You’re flattening your fringe, Curly.”

Harry turns to see Louis smirking at him playfully from the couch. He’s got his comfy clothes on – a red t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Harry smiles and comes over to join him, shuffling carefully around the coffee table and several pairs of shoes. He could turn on a lamp but it’s comfier in the dark with just the light of the telly. Zayn is at the other end, face illuminated by the blue light of his phone. Liam and Niall are on the floor watching The Late Show with a bowl of popcorn between them.

Louis ruffles and fluffs Harry’s bangs when he sits down and nods in satisfaction.

“Much better.”

“Oh really? Well, I think your hair needs fixing too.”

Harry reaches up mischievously, but Louis deflects his hand away.

“Oi - my hair is absolutely perfect, you git!”

Harry laughs as they swat at each other, Louis retreating back into the cushion. He makes an adorable squeak and Harry feels a quick and strange prickle of heat run through his body. It’s enough to give him pause, and Louis takes the opportunity to flick him lightly on the forehead.

“Ow,” Harry drawls, pulling back.

“Serves you right.”

Harry can’t help but grin at the impish smile on the boy beside him. He lets his gaze linger a second too long, but finds that he can’t help himself – Louis is strangely delicate for a man; his feathered bangs fall gently over his blue eyes and the bridge of his little nose. Cute. And handsome. Both, he decides.

Louis finally falters under his gaze, giving his friend a weak punch in the shoulder.

“I’m thristy. Wanna bev?”

“Yeah. I’ll get it. What do you want?”

Harry hops over the back of the couch. He needs to refocus. Yet even as he’s bending down to inspect the contents of the mini fridge and calling out drinks to Louis, he can’t help but entertain a sense of… _curiosity_ toward the effect his band mate has – has _always_ had – on him.

“Just a water, then? That’s all that’s left.”

Louis has turned down all of the soda and juice options.

“…What do they have for beer?”

“Cheap stuff, looks like.”

“Just pick whichever, then.”

Harry grabs one for both of them. “You gents want anything?” he offers to the other boys. There’s a murmur of “no” and “no thanks.” Harry isn’t even sure that Zayn looked up from his phone. Louis has pulled his out too and is bent over it, exposing the nape of his neck. Harry gets a wicked idea and quickly scoots up behind Louis, pressing the ice-cold can to his skin. Louis yelps and spins around.

“Harold Edward Styles! Some friend!”

Louis smiles in spite of himself as Harry shakes with laughter before snatching the can from him.

The room is lit by a momentary flash as Zayn captures a picture of them.

“I’m gonna sub it, ‘Lover’s Spat,” he drawls with a crooked grin.

Liam chimes in with a “d’aww” from the floor and tosses a piece of popcorn back at them.

Harry plops down next to Louis and cracks his can open, chuckling as Louis makes a point of scooting as far toward the end of the couch as he can. He looks ethereal in the soft, blue glow of the telly, and Harry has to quickly redirect his attention to the screen to avoid being caught gawking a second time. He shifts uncomfortably. It’s been a few days since his last wank. Maybe he should excuse himself to the bathroom. Maybe that would calm him down.

In his peripheral he sees Louis lifting a hand to rub where the can touched.

“Still cold,” he pouts, almost inaudibly.

Harry doesn’t think. He leans over quickly and gives the boy’s neck a long lap with the middle of his tongue. He pulls back quickly and winces.

_Good one, styles,_ he reprimands himself.Is it even possible to recover from that? What the hell is his problem? He makes a goofy sound and laughs, but Louis’ bewilderment isn’t lost on either of them.

Offbeat, Louis scrubs furiously at the wetness. “You’re a right tosser – what was that?”

“I warmed you back up,” Harry suggests. He’s heady with Louis’ scent and taste… Shit, what does he have to lose? He winks. Even in the dark he can see the blush rising on Louis’ cheeks as the poor boy glances at his band mates. Nobody is paying them much mind – it would be stranger if the duo weren’t horsing around with each other.

Unsettling Louis is hard to do – Harry bites his lip and smirks, about to take a victory sip from his beer when he feels a hot puff of breath on his cheek. Louis grabs his collar and sets his lips just below Harry’s jaw, sucking hard. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there and Harry fights a surprise moan. It’s over in a second and Louis backs away to survey his handiwork.

“There’s a lovely one,” he nods in approval.

Harry’s senses are on fire. He’s radiating heat like a furnace. His neck tingles a little where Louis left the love bite. Can he dare to hope…?

No, he can’t get ahead of himself. This is probably a joke to Louis, even if Harry desperately wants to read it differently. Louis isn’t sporting a semi in his trousers like Harry is. This isn’t turning him on. This is just a one-up game. Harry’s heart twists in bittersweet agony as he reminds himself of this, willing his dick to stop its expectant twitches.

Harry finally finds some words. “I wouldn’t call that a proportionate punishment. We’ve got a photoshoot this week, if the snow ever stops.”

“And that’s why you don’t mess with Louis the Great!”

So after everything it’s Louis taking a victory swig from his beer while Harry rolls his eyes playfully.

“Face it, Hazza, I’m always going to be on top.”

If only.  


The late show credits are rolling, and Niall turns over onto his back, stretching his arms behind his head.

“What have we got, anything to do? I’m so BORED.”

Liam checks his watch. “It’s 12:30. I don’t know what the rest of you are going to do, but I’m going to reclaim my room and call Sophia.”

“…So Liam is having phone sex, what about the rest of us?”

“Sorry mate,” Zayn says. “Not much up for anything. I’m going to bed.”

Niall tries puppy dog eyes on him but Zayn just returns the pout and stands, clicking his phone off. “My phone’s almost dead anyway. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.”

And then there were three.

“Harry? Louis?” Niall says, hopeful.

“Nope!” Louis chirps, hopping up from the couch and tossing his empty can in the wastebasket. “I’m going to take a nice hot shower, watch some undoubtedly high-quality hotel pornography, and fall sleep naked.”

Nial wrinkles his nose. “That was… illuminatin’. Next time just say ‘no.’ How about you, Harry? What do you say?”

Harry is still imagining a shower-fresh Louis splayed out on soft hotel sheets. “Erm, sorry mate. I might want to turn in too.”

“At least come with me to the café, I want to get something to eat.”

“Of course you do,” Harry chuckles. “Fine, fine.”

“What’re you tryin’ to say, Styles?” Nial squawks in fake indignation, elbowing Harry as the three of them leave Liam’s room and Louis heads down the hall.

“Night boys!”

“Night Boo Bear,” Harry flutters his eyelashes and blows a kiss. Louis catches it and touches it to his cheek, popping his foot up for good measure.

“You two are absolutely mental,” Nial groans, directing a giggling Harry toward the elevator.

 

In the lobby the only sound is the click of their shoes on the marble floor. The concierge at the front desk nods at them as they pass. The café is blissfully empty and Niall takes his time inspecting the pastries in the glass case under the counter. Harry is finally swayed by a thick cinnamon roll with vanilla glaze and Niall settles for a double chocolate fudge brownie. They scout out the most secluded table and slide into the black leather booth.

“So,” Niall starts, taking a huge bite of his brownie, “What’s new?”

“Really?” Harry smirks.

“It’s called ‘polite conversation,’ Harreh. It’s a thing.”

“You know more about me than my own mum.”

Niall nods appreciatively. “That’s fair.”

They spend a moment quietly enjoying their treats. Harry mindlessly unrolls his bun and eats it in pieces, sucking the glaze off his fingers.

“…Still pining for Loueh, eh?” Niall tries, looking up at Harry cautiously.

“That obvious?”

“You stare at him all the time, mate.”

“Shit. I’ve been trying to stop.”

“Not to ruin your day, but you two aren’t fooling anyone.”

Harry tilts his head back and sighs. “Well, I used to think that he felt the same toward me. Or at least that he was curious. Now I’m not sure… I’m always guessing and second-guessing myself.”

“He might be scared. Not just of dating a guy, but of how management would react-”

“Fuck management.”

“I know, but it’s a lot of pressure anyway. Look here, though – who gave ya that fockin’ huge love bite? ”

Harry smirks at the rhetorical question.

“See? Friends don’t give friends love bites. …Not ones that big, anyway. You look diseased.”

“Hey!” Harry laughs, even as he turns shyly, wondering just how bad it is. He’ll have to get the damn concealer out again.

Niall’s grin is replaced by a contemplative frown as he munches on his last bite of brownie. “…Would you ever just ask him outright? No beating around the proverbial bush?”

“I think about it every day, honestly. Just don’t know how he would react. Scares me that maybe he’ll pull away.”

“Harreh, look,” Niall leans forward earnestly. “Loueh loves you as a person no matter what. Worst case, you tell him how you feel, he says he doesn’t feel the same way – _not_ that I think that’s what will happen,” he adds, deflecting the grimace Harry hadn’t realized was crossing his face, “Just saying, if he didn’t feel the same, there’s a few days of awkwardness probably, then you’re back to best mates and you can move on.”

Harry nods appreciatively, ignoring the nagging doubt that clouds his mind.

They return their plates to the café counter and head back to the elevator. Niall changes the subject from Louis since there’s nothing more to say, really. Well, nothing more to say that won’t exacerbate Harry’s descent to “sad puppy dog” status. Instead he brings up the least depressive topic he can think of, which has got to be the prank he’s plotting against Liam. It involves 200 condoms, three sparkly dildos, a confetti canon, duct tape, and plenty of alcohol. And, judging by the way that Harry is laughing so hard he can barely breathe, it’s going to be a phenomenal success.

 

When a soft ding announces their floor, Harry realizes that he had successfully removed Louis from his mind for a blissful six minutes. It’s late now, so they’re silent in the hall. When they reach Harry’s door Niall gives him a hug.

“Cheer up, mate. It’ll work out.”

Harry musters a half-hearted smile.

“I mean, who could resist these dimples!” Niall goes for an impersonation of his grandma and pinches Harry’s cheeks dramatically, earning a real smile from his friend.

“G’night, Nialler. And thanks.”


	2. Confirmation

_“G’night, Nialler. And thanks.”_

 

As soon as the door is shut, Harry peels off his white t-shirt and makes his way to the bed, only bothering to turn on one lamp before flopping down face first on his pillow with an aggravated sigh. He listens for a moment to the soft sounds of the hotel – the tick of the wall clock. The low drone of the telly in the neighboring room. His own steady breath. He visualizes Louis, and the way the boy looks at him sometimes with that that small, secretive smile. And Harry just wishes he could kiss it off his lips and steal it away so that Louis could never look at anyone else like that.

Harry has moved his hand onto his stomach. He undoes the first button of his too-tight jeans and wriggles his fingers under the band of his boxers. He starts pulling himself gently, then rubs harder, palming himself a bit, until he’s got a decent hard-on. He turns on his side and has his jeans halfway down his bum when he hears the unmistakable fumble of a doorknob and an accompanying creak – Harry freezes and looks up. He’s positive that he locked the door when he came in, and indeed, the door is still shut.

“Harry?”

Harry shifts his gaze to the closet door, or, at least, what he had _assumed_ was the closet door. Until right now. This very second. When the traitorous door revealed its true identity as a portal to everlasting shame.

Louis is frozen there, eyes wide, hair wet and combed back after his shower. Harry can tell he shaved – he looks baby-faced and smooth in the dim light.

Louis, for his part, is properly mortified: mouth agape. He wants to scoff at Harry, say something clever and funny, then slam the door shut and retreat. Instead, he only blurts: “Didn’t you know our rooms are connected?”      

“Apparently not,” Harry says, slowly. His cheeks are pulsing with heat; the fact that Louis hasn’t run away yet is stunning. “Didn’t you know it’s polite to knock before opening a closed door? Besides, I thought you were watching some shit porno.”

“Well, I feel like I am now, anyway!” He laughs, but it’s forced. “Chrissakes, put that thing away before you poke an eye out…”

He says that, but Harry’s little bum is exposed and it’s actually mesmerizing if he’s being honest with himself. His smile isn’t the only thing that’s dimpled.

“…No.”

“Fine,” Louis huffs in false aggravation. “Give me a shout when you’re decent, you animal.”

He turns to go but Harry’s voice, low and calm, stops him.

“Louis, come here.”

“You’re mental!” Louis laughs, thinking he’s joking, but when he glances back he sees that there’s no smile on Harry’s face. Just that even stare: those impossibly deep eyes.

Harry turns onto his back and pulls himself up against the pillows at the headboard. His heart is pounding like it does when he gets on stage, the anxiety building under threat of disapproval – or worse, disgust – so it seems natural when he feels himself transition to “Harry the Performer,” who’s totally comfortable when faced with thousands of screaming fans and tirelessly flashing cameras. Fake it till you make it. Fake it till you make it.

How strange that one, small boy, standing harmlessly in his hotel room, could make him feel the same exhilaration and terror as a world of eyes upon him.

Louis is lost for a moment, following the trail of his tight abs up his chest to the ink swallows that swoop from his shoulders. There’s an edginess to his beauty that wasn’t there when they first met; when Harry’s face was still softly innocent. Now his angular jaw is set, and those piercing green eyes are trained on him with carnal intent: testing him, daring him.

 

Louis edges toward the bed, like maybe Harry is a wild beast about to tear him apart. He watches as Harry slowly moves a hand over the bulge in his red boxers, pressing down and rubbing softly.

“Close the door first.”

Louis swallows thickly, then backtracks and nudges the door shut. He pauses, runs a hand through his hair, but comes back to the bed. When his thigh touches the edge of the mattress Harry allows the hint of a smile to grace his lips.

“You’re hard down there, Lou,” he whispers, nodding to the obvious tent into Louis’ sweats. Louis looks down, almost surprised. Harry bites his lip, smirks.

“What are we doing, Harry?”

“…Don’t think too much.”

Harry slides off the bed and comes around to Louis, almost prowling. The older boy smells deliciously of mint. Harry turns and glances at the windows, satisfied when he sees that they are already drawn tightly shut. He’s about to turn back to the boy when he feels Louis’ gentle hand caressing the love bite from earlier.

“I gave you that,” Louis murmurs, running his thumb over the mark.

Harry breathes out hotly and closes the distance between them until he can feel the heat of Louis’ skin through his t-shirt. He reaches out and gives the hard outline of Louis’ cock an experimental stroke. Louis hisses. He smirks and grips the smaller boy’s hips, grinding into him roughly, groaning at the friction. Louis bites back a whimper and hangs his arms over Harry’s shoulders, returning the action tentatively at first and then hungrily.

“Fuck, Harry…” Louis breathes. Harry hums in agreement.

Louis bites his lip and yanks his t-shirt off, discarding it quickly on the floor while Harry tugs lazily at the drawstring of Louis’ sweats, never taking his eyes from Louis’. He lets his hands slip around to the boy’s backside and grabs his arse soundly.

Louis’ eyes flash brilliantly at the action and he gives a low growl, pushing Harry’s arms away. Harry, stunned for a moment, only raises his eyebrows.

They assess each other carefully, then Louis places his hands on Harry’s shoulders with a cheeky smile. Harry challenges him by edging closer.

“Hm, what do you want, Lou?”

Louis responds by pulling down on the taller boy, causing him to stumble to his knees (no thanks to his partially undone jeans.)

Harry doesn’t need a prompt – he pulls down Louis’ pants and is faced with a bobbing cock at eye level.

“Ooh, commando, Lou. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve been waiting for thi-”

Louis takes a fist full of Harry’s curls and leads his onto his cock.

Harry sucks experimentally, stroking the velvet smooth skin with his tongue. Louis sighs and loosens his grip on Harry.

 

There’s a tang of saltiness on Harry’s tongue. He licks Louis’ tip gently, earning a tortured groan from his boy. Encouraged, he swallows Louis deeper and slicks his shaft with spit before adding his hand to the base.

“Mmmm…”

Harry glances up at Louis – his head is tilted back slightly, pleasure written clearly in his expression, eyes closed. Harry stops his ministrations and cups just the head in the scoop of his tongue. Louis’ cock bounces impatiently there before Louis lets out a soft whine and nudges his hips forward, willing Harry to continue. Harry snickers a little and Louis finally looks down, crinkling his nose, prepared to reprimand his band mate, but the sight of Harry on his knees, wet tongue cradling his dick, sweeps all logic from Louis’ mind. Instead, he yields a dazed smile.

“Suck me, you beautiful idiot.”

It only takes a moment for Harry’s sinfully skilled tongue to buckle Louis’ knees and then the boy is sitting on the edge of the bed. Harry scoots between his knees and uses his free hand to service his own neglected cock, palming himself firmly through his boxers.

Christ, Louis is close. He’s flagpole stiff in his mouth, and his head is so stuffed that he nearly chokes Harry several times. Not that either of them seem to mind – in fact, it might be getting Louis off.

“Hazzaaaa…” he keens, “M’close…”

Harry sucks slowly down Louis’ shaft one more time, releasing the tip with a pop.

“Not yet, love.”

Louis pouts and he looks so adorably innocent… except that his pants are around his ankles and his blue eyes are hazy with lust.

Harry can barely contain himself.

“On the bed, then,” he demands, throat rough from the fucking it just received.

Louis kicks his sweats off his ankles and slides back on the pillows, Harry following closely behind until the boy is trapped beneath him. Without wasting a moment he descends on his neck, which Louis surrenders quickly after a ticklish squawk. When Harry pulls away, there’s an obnoxiously obvious red-purple mark above Louis’ collarbone.

“Tsk, so high school, not classy at all, Styles,” Louis grins.  
“We’re even now.”

They quickly eye each other’s love bites.

“…Marketing is going to absolutely kill us,” Louis determines.

Harry laughs darkly. “Let ‘em. Anyway,” he gently pushes back Louis’ fringe and their eyes lock. “I’d rather be dead than stop touching you like this.”

Louis seems to miss the next beat. The corner of his mouth twitches, he snorts, then bursts into a fit of laughter.

“What even _was_ that line? Comically bad wooing, Harold, a bloody embarrassment to romantics everywhere!”

Harry was firstly taken aback, but he’s grinning bashfully now. “Heeeey.”

“I mean, that was, like, the callout for some cheap erotic novel or something!”

“Well,” Harry justifies, “I’m no Shakespeare, but I must be doing something right.”

He reaches down and stroke’s Louis’ seeping cock to make the point. Louis’ chuckle catches in his throat and turns into a soft groan as he presses into Harry’s hand.

“God, that feels so good… Ought to be illegal.”

Harry chuckles and recalls his hand, placing two fingers on the smaller boy’s lips. He can feel the hot pulse of Louis’ breath as he taps lightly on the rose-pink skin. Louis dazedly opens his mouth just wide enough to coax the fingers in with his tongue. He sucks until Harry is slick to the knuckle and never breaks eye contact.

“Good lad,” Harry whispers. He’s nearly shaking with anticipation. He flips them quickly so that Louis is straddling his chest. When the boy just gives him a coy smile and starts playing with the curls at the base of his neck, Harry growls and pulls him down by the waist until they’re inches apart.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

“Stupid boy, you don’t have to as-”

Harry takes his lips roughly. There’s nothing Disney about it – no reverence or shyness or sweetness. It’s so much dirtier than a first kiss should be, and Harry revels in it. He can feel his mind swooping and sparking with every touch of Louis’ tongue. The awkward miss-match of their lips is all part and parcel – when they finally strike a rhythm, Louis’ cheeks are burning with arousal and he’s grasping at Harry’s curls mindlessly. Harry grinds up against the boy and he shudders. There’s a beautiful and unexpected undertone to this pleasure – relief, and confirmation.

Louis breaks their kiss with a pant, and draws himself forward until his head is tucked into the crook of Harry’s neck. He mouths Harry, planting small kisses on his jaw as Harry runs his fingers down the perfect curve of his back, coming to rest at the top of his bum. Louis whines when Harry pauses, and wiggles his hips. It’s all the permission Harry needs – he folds one longer finger down and presses gently into Louis.

“Shhh,” he soothes when Louis tenses. “You tell me if you want to stop, yeah?”

“Yeah,” louis squeaks. “S’fine.”

Harry pushes in a bit further until he passes the initial ring of resistance and then the finger slides in smoothly. He can feel Louis forming a surprised “Oh,” against his shoulder. After a moment he slides another finger alongside the first, and Louis hisses.

“Doing so well, babe,” Harry praises. “So tight, Lou, you feel great just on my fingers.” When Louis doesn’t answer, Harry freezes. “…Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Louis says, almost too quickly. “…I want you.”

Harry shifts as his member gives a twitch. He battles to keep his patience, for Louis’ sake.

“You’ll have me. Just a minute more, then,” he mumbles, starting to scissor the boy slightly.

“No,” Louis fidgets, picking his head up. “I want you now, Haz. Please, I want to feel it more. I’ve waited so bloody long.”

Harry watches as Louis pulls back, and Harry’s fingers slide out of his hot arse.

“It’ll hurt if you aren’t ready though, love…”

Louis ignores him and scoots back between Harry’s thighs. He licks his lips and then descends on Harry’s cock, sucking and licking until his band mate is wet to the balls.

“Jesus, Lou, fuck it all…” Harry’s hips buck upwards and Louis groans. “M’trying… To be nice… But you’re making it very difficult for me to control myself.”

Louis stops just long enough to look up at him over the tip of his dick and give a cheeky smirk.

“Then don’t.”

Harry bites his lip and sits up, pulling Louis by the shoulders back down onto the mattress. His boy’s feathery fringe is spiked with sweat, and his high cheekbones are flushed. As far as Harry is concerned, he’s the quintessence of loveliness.

“I want to see your face as you take me in, Lou. Is it OK like this?”

Louis smiles, genuinely, quietly. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Harry takes hold of Louis’ thighs with big hands and nudges against him gently, surprised and happy to find him fairly relaxed.

“Err,” Harry stumbles, a bit of his natural awkwardness slipping in with his nerves. “D’you want, I forgot to ask if you wanted to use a condom or-”

Louis is done being sweet – he rolls his eyes. “Harry, stick it in me or I’m going to fuck you inst-”

Harry rolls forward and Louis takes him halfway, both of them gasping. He gives Louis a moment to adjust, then pushes in to the hilt. The tight heat, the extraordinary squeeze around his base – Harry groans. He pulls back slowly – Louis makes a face of discomfort – and pushes back in. Pulls back a little more, in, with a bit more force. The way he’s angled that time makes Louis give a little jump.

“Alright?” Harry asks, concerned.

“…Do that again.”

“Here?” Harry ruts forward.

“Ah, yeah, there, just there. Something – that feels brilliant, Haz.”

Louis tilts his head back into the pillow and Harry, encouraged, gives another thrust.

“Fuuuuuuck. That feels really good, Haz. Like, _really_ good.”

“You feel amazing, too. So tight and hot for me,” Harry breathes, picking up his pace. Louis’ eyes are squeezed shut with pleasured pain. “Never thought we’d – you’re so beautiful.” He starts stroking Louis’ dick and pulls his legs up for a better angle. “You take me so well. Could do you all night, Lou. You’re amazing.”

Louis moans and brings one arm over his face. He’s glistening with sweat. His voice is strained. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ll last long.”

“Don’t be sorry. ‘M gonna fill you, and then fill you again. We’re gonna cum all night for each other.”

“Harryyyyy,” louis strains. His hips are bucking in loose rhythm to Harry’s thrusts. Harry notes with some perverted sense of pride that he’s probably leaving bruises on the boy’s hips. When Louis reaches for Harry he leans down quickly: they wrap their arms around each other while Harry peppers Louis’ hot skin with kisses.

“Hang in there, babe. So close.” Harry feels his movements growing erratic and a sweet coil tightens deep within him. “So good for me, yeah? You’ll take it, won’t you?”

Louis nods pleadingly as Harry continues to fist him. “Shit, Harry, I want you so bad...”

“Then come for me,” Harry orders, deep and smooth.

Louis groans and shoots hot strings of cum onto his stomach, tightening around Harry and finally sending him over the edge. Harry forces himself as deep as he can, overwhelmed by possessiveness as his cock pulses seed into his boy. He pants through his orgasm, shoving his cock impossibly further in with a series of slow thrusts. Louis whimpers and pulls him into a kiss. The urgency is gone, and they’re tender now. Sweet, even. It’s a respectable (second) kiss.

It takes a moment for them to gather themselves, Harry still semi-hard inside Louis. He withdraws gently and pulls Louis into the crook of his arm. Louis, in turn, places a hand over Harry’s sweat-slick chest and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers “accidentally” flicking a nipple. Or two.

Harry grunts. “Heeey.”

Louis cackles wickedly and reaches up to steal a quick kiss from his boy. Harry smiles languidly and closes his eyes.

“Did I not sex you thoroughly enough? Are you asking for another round?”

“No I’m quite sexed, thanks. My beautiful arse is ruined because of you, I’ll have you know. S’all achy.” Louis gives his bum a half-hearted wiggle. “And sticky.”

“Mmm, that was the plan,” Harry chuckles, getting out of the bed and heading to the bathroom. He comes back a moment later with a warm cloth and gently wipes the cum from Louis’ chest.

“…How are we going to face the lads? Or anyone else for that matter?” Louis worries after a moment. Harry wiggles into bed next to him and sighs.

“Same way we always do.”

“But, what if it’s _not_ the same? And we’ll lose fans, I’m sure.”

“Frankly, I don’t give one flying fuck what anyone thinks.”

“Language, Harold!” Louis gasps, feigning shock.

“Hey, think of all the Larry fangirls! We’re granting wishes, really. We’re practically heroes.” Louis scoffs and Harry gives him a goofy grin. “Come to think of it, they’re going to riot when the pap films us leaving the hotel and you can’t even walk.”

A look of horror crosses Louis’ face and he buries his head against Harry’s neck.

“I am absolutely not leaving this room.”

“Would it help it I carried you out bridal-style?”

Louis smacks at Harry’s chest in lieu of an answer and Harry barks out a laugh before pulling him closer.

 

Louis is nearly asleep when he feels the bed shift.

“Where are you going?” he murmurs as he watches Harry shuffle past the end of the bed.

“Just shutting off the lights. Wanted to see if it’s still snowing, too.”

Harry pulls the shade to the side and dim, rosy light of the city filters in. Louis checks the alarm clock on the nightstand. Three A.M.

“It’s still really coming down, Lou. ‘S beautiful.”

“Mhm, come back here and snuggle me. You’re like a hot water bottle and I’m cold.”

“I think I’m being used,” Harry chuckles as he slides in under the covers. He wraps Louis in his arms and spoons him.

“I was thinking, at least I can still leave in the morning from my suite,” Louis yawns. “Save us some suspicion.”

“No, you’re leaving with _me_ from _my_ suite,” Harry rumbles, feeling Louis shiver as his breath ghosts over his ear. “Let the rumors fly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for taking the time to read this. I'm usually a top Louis kind of fangirl, but sometimes the story just writes itself! I'll be doing top Louis next time, though. <3 QUICK! TO THE SMUTMOBILE


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